


The Ocean is Beautiful

by AmyNChan



Category: Prince of Persia (Video Game 2008)
Genre: Suicidal Thoughts Implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 17:51:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13416486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyNChan/pseuds/AmyNChan
Summary: The air has grown cold.  So unlike the baking heat of my home.  Of my destroyed temple.  The grave of my mother and my father.  The heart from which all darkness, all corruption, will seep.  The air is cold and moist, not dry and arid.  It does not comfort me.Alternate summary: a better epilogue than the dlc





	The Ocean is Beautiful

I cannot tell how long we have run.  I cannot bear to count the days.  Ahriman is free, and I have no one but myself to blame for it.

“It’s not much further.”

No one, perhaps, save myself and my companion.

He silences himself again.  Strange how a man who was so eager for conversation has grown so solemn.  It is impossible to think he would not know what he has done.  To me.  To himself.  To the world.

He must know it as I know it is my fault for allowing it to transpire.

We had walked for days, found a town.  After that, he had gotten us to go south.  Then west.  Then further west.  We have not stopped.  It feels only as though the weight around my neck, the burden and the responsibility I bear, has increased with each passing moment.  For now, the weight of ten worlds weighs upon my back.

I wonder if it weighs on him as well.  I do not ask.  I ran out of words to say to him long ago.

“You’re gonna like it.  I promise.”

I do not answer.  I cannot bear to.  With Ahriman free, it seems as though there is no joy in the world that will not eventually be snuffed out.

The air has grown cold.  So unlike the baking heat of my home.  Of my destroyed temple.  The grave of my mother and my father.  The heart from which all darkness, all corruption, will seep.  The air is cold and moist, not dry and arid.  It does not comfort me.

The cart gives another jostle, and in its roughness, I can feel Ormazd’s displeasure.  The powers he had bestowed upon me have long since vanished.  I am not worthy of them.  I have failed.  Ahriman is free.

“All right.  We’re here!”  says he from the other side of the cart.  I cannot lift my head.  I cannot meet his eyes.  I will only see reflections of my own failure.  Or perhaps that is another aspect of my punishment.  To be reminded of what has happened every day as we await the end.  As we await the darkness and corruption.  To be reminded what cruelty it is to be selfish and arrogant.

My punishment indeed.

I leave the covered wagon of my own accord.  If this is my punishment, if it is my fate to see what will eventually be plunged into shadow and misery and corruption, so be it.  I will meet it head-on.

I lift my head, and my companion says nothing.  He stays with the cart, soothing the animal that had brought us so far.  It is a jittery thing, as most animals are in these times.  They, it seems, have far keener senses than humanity.  They are aware of the encroaching darkness.  Of the doom that approaches all.

I’ve never seen so much blue before.  Not even in the sky above.  Not even in my mother’s gardens.  The crystal ponds in my memory, though tainted by time, haven’t anything on the sheer hue that faces me.  Sunlight, the same sunlight that would beat down on us during a hard day’s work and reward us with gentle beams when we were through, reflects off the waters.  The dusk brings with it a multitude of colors, and yet the deep blue is what I would admire most.

It is so beautiful. And so tragic.  A sight that ought to have been viewed in freedom.  A dream I had had so very long ago.  And now, I cannot help but wish that I could avert my eyes.  It is something I do not deserve.

The animal brays behind me, and I know he is taking care of it, soothing as best he can.  He has been attempting to do the same for me ever since we left.  We have walked through marketplaces, been shown many spices, seen beautiful garments of clothing.  Each thing that glittered brought shame to me.  How could I enjoy the life that was stolen back for me?  How could I be happy while the image of my father, decayed for a cause that was sabotaged, stained my mind’s eye?

How can I be presented with the one wish I had as a child, now that such a thing comes at too terrible a price?

Ahriman is free.  And this beautiful scene will fall to his darkness.  Like my city.  Like my mother’s garden.

I have not the power to stop him.  Ormazd has stripped me of my abilities.  I am useless and cast aside, as I ought to be.  I should have stopped this from happening.

I should not be here.

I should not.

The animal is braying ever louder behind my back, distress in its voice.

The weight of responsibilities failed and grim defeat claw upon my head and back.

The sight of the ocean overwhelms me, the distance being so calm, but the water several meters beneath me crashing so violently upon rocks.

The air is cold.  So cold.  The light is leaving us, the dusk ebbing into twilight.

With no light to combat it, the darkness will quickly take over.  Even this beautiful place will succumb.  And I did not stop it.  I was entrusted with light.  I was the final piece to keep Ahriman from returning.

And I… I have failed.

I turn my gaze away.  I feel ill.

The animal is calming, with his constant murmurings.  I watch as its hooves paw at the dirt, still uncertain, still scared.

Yet he persists.  Stroking its long face, speaking calmly with it.  He eases it away from its discomfort, coddling it, moving it gently.  Easing it into normalcy.  Easing me into normalcy.

How dare he?

Ever since we left, it has been he who has attempted to show me glittering beauty and reveal to me my childhood dreams.  The ones I had trusted him with when he was my only comrade against the corruption.  He has taken every dream I ever dreamt, ever desire I could have wanted, and attempted to bring them to me as though they could somehow make right what he has clearly done wrong.

It is because of him that the joy of the world will fall.  It will succumb.  And all the living things of the world will follow.  Death, destruction, ruin.  All because he would not let me die.  He would not let me play my part, dragging me back to the realm of the living at the expense of everything I had fought to prevent.

I thought I felt ill before.  This.  This is illness.

I cannot help that my motions are stiff as I turn back to the ocean.  I cannot stand to look at him.  I did my part.  I healed the fertile grounds.  I returned life back to the tree that would have kept Ahriman imprisoned.  I left this world with no regrets, only to be cast back here because of him.

Ahriman is returned.  I am alive.  And everything is wrong.

“Elika…”

Everything.  _Everything_ is wrong.

“Maybe you can step away from the edge a bit?”

Coddling me.  As though I _chose_ to be here.

“Elika, hey…”

As though living in a world with Ahriman alive was _my_ choice.

“Come away from the edge.”

How dare he!

I turn on my heel.  He has absolutely no idea what he has done.  Going here and there, with marketplaces and spices and dresses and the _ocean_!  A distraction, a coddling, as though I am a child!  As though I am no more than the animal on the harness!

How dare—

The world tilts on its axis.  Or rather, mine.  I can feel myself begin to fall over the ledge, and I can already see the white foam of the crashing waves rapidly approaching.  There is a certain stillness in the loss of control.  Of knowing one can die so suddenly and abruptly without premeditation.

It is frightening.  And yet, it is a fuel for my anger.

I reach out, intending to grab purchase.  A rock, a branch, anything that might help me cling to my life.  I was brought to this place, hoping to face my punishment, to find some way of making amends for a mistake I did not commit.  If I ever thought, even for a moment, that death was my answer after his grave error, then I was surely wrong.

A surge of strength through my arm, but not my own.  It’s his.

In the moment I glance up, I see my travelling companion clearly for the first time since we left the ruins.  His eyes are wide, his teeth grit.  In the blue, I can see it.  Fear.

I am pulled from my space in midair, pulled from danger as he barrels me into his chest.

“What the hell, Elika?” mutters he, breathless.

I grind my teeth together.  An explosion of fire flows through my veins and it is more than enough to cast off his arm.

“You’re asking me?”  Venom laces my voice and I am glad for it.  “What the hell about you?  Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“Yeah, saved you from falling off a cliff!  Or were you walking so close to admire the view?”

The cheek of this man!  “Back at the temple!  Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“Saved your life!  You’re welcome, by the—”

“No!  Don’t you ‘you’re welcome’ me!”  The memories of my death flash by me.  The peace.  The satisfaction of knowing the world was safe from Ahriman for a few thousand years yet.  The hard work we’d done together to make it so.  And all of it, now ruined.  “You _knew_ what would happen if you revived me!  You _knew_ what would happen and you did it anyway!”

“You were dead!”

“Of course I was _dead_!  I was at _peace_!  The world was _safe_ from Ahriman, his corrupted and himself sealed away!  That was the purpose of our entire effort!  And you—”

“ _I_ wasn’t at peace!”  I am taken aback.  Shock and frustration give my voice pause, but it is enough for him to continue.  “You just jumped into dying so easily, you didn’t even care about what you were leaving behind—!”

My hand flew of its own accord, but I am not remorseful over it.  The slap was well deserved, and his slackened expression is enough to state my piece.

“I did _everything_ for what I left behind.”  My voice is low, quiet.  I do not think my throat could handle the hoarseness of another screaming match after what I realize is a month of silence.  A month…  “My death was required for Ahriman’s imprisonment.  It meant the safety of those marketplaces, the clarity of the ocean, and the continuation of life itself.  But you?  You’ve ruined it.  Every person we’ve interacted with, every beautiful thing you’ve shown me, will be reduced to darkness and corruption in the wake of what is coming.”

His expression is solemn, his head hung.  Good.  What he has done to this world, whatever reason he had in his mind for doing so, must be remedied.  We have not the time wasted to view the world.  Not if we wish to preserve it.

I am without powers, but I am not powerless.  There must be a way to secure the world and imprison Ahriman once more.  I walk towards the cart, my mind dismissing options as soon as it comes up with them.

“Wait, where are you going now?” asks he, quickly turning to follow.  I am still angry with him, but now is not the time to address it.  There will be time, after Ahriman has been secured again.  I am sure of it.

“You made this mess.”  The reminder is quick and cutting, and he has the decency to look ashamed, but this is not the point.  “Now we are going to clean it up.”

I return to my thoughts, rapidly filing through one solution after another. The fertile grounds are gone, the temple destroyed.  All of my people are scattered to the winds, having left long ago.  There is no time to gather them together to craft another temple, such a task would be monumental.

Perhaps…

“And how exactly do you figure we do that?” His words are blunt and inclusive.  He will be coming along with me.  Good.  The only remaining option I can think of will be difficult, and having him around made things easier the first time.

Approaching the cart, I assess our animal, noting that it still paws the ground, but is no longer pulling at its reins in an attempt to get free.  Good.  I quickly mount the cart and take the reins, only now turning to my companion.  “We’re finding Ormazd.”

His expression is one I would have expected from him.  The slumping of shoulders and obvious dissatisfaction from whenever I mentioned my beliefs from before still exists.  Regardless of his apparent attitude, he swiftly joins me atop the cart.

Reins in hand, I direct the animal inland.  We have a job to do.

**Author's Note:**

> One of my friends (glares at him because he knows who I'm talking about) got me to watch the Prince of Persia game, and then the DLC. We agreed it needed a do-over. This is such a do-over. Hope you enjoyed it. *^_^*


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